


A Tale of Two Kingdoms

by jacksgreysays (jacksgreyson), jacksgreyson



Category: Descendants (2015), Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksgreyson/pseuds/jacksgreysays, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksgreyson/pseuds/jacksgreyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four determined magicians shatter the barrier around the Isle; but they also manage to tear a hole in something along the ocean floor. And there are things bigger and badder on the other side.</p><p>This is not a story about heroes and villains.</p><p>This is a story about survival.</p><p>(The Descendants x Pacific Rim fusion you didn't know you wanted. Originally posted on tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Magic is a delicate topic on the Isle, as much as something can be considered delicate in such a place. It’s true that the worst villains, the most powerful ones, were so successful due to magic. Curses and shapeshifting and mind control, as impressive now as they were decades ago. But magic is also the reason why everyone is trapped on an island in the middle of the ocean with no way to escape.

Magic is a double-edged blade, has always been one, and while usually villains don’t care about the collateral damage when using magic… In this case… well.

Four determined magicians shatter the barrier around the Isle; but they also manage to tear a hole in something along the ocean floor. And there are things bigger and badder on the other side.

* * *

Auradon first learns of the kaiju when one comes up off the coast of Charmington and proceeds to decimate the town.

It takes a while to understand the situation, to call for help, to get effective aid. By the time Fairy Godmother arrives, wand in hand to wave the problem away, over one thousand people have been killed.

The once beautiful resort town empties within the week, a rubble strewn graveyard.

* * *

Magic has gotten them into this mess. The ambitions of one sorcerer and three witches, the sacrifice of one boy’s life. Jafar, Maleficent, Grimhilde, and Ursula, the Isle’s foremost magicians. Uri, who would have been a sea wizard had he been born underwater, with tentacles instead of legs.

“That bastard was my best friend,” Jemma says, a pirate who has been land-locked her entire life, “He was going to send storms after my enemies, and I would throw all the prettiest prisoners overboard just for him.”

It’s as close to a declaration of love as they get on the Isle. Carlos understands that this is an act of trust, of desperation.

“Build me something to avenge him,” Jemma demands, because she cannot ask. Cannot ask Carlos to build something to save them all.

Magic got them into this mess. Science is going to have to get them out.

* * *

The kaiju are not from the Isle. The kaiju are getting bigger and stronger. The kaiju can learn.

Soon, Fairy Godmother’s magic can no longer contain them, can no longer destroy them, can no longer stall them.

The coasts are no longer premium real estate, the nobles and royalty move inland–not that titles mean much anymore.

Futilely, Auradon sticks to what they know, they attempt to contain that which they fear. They begin to build the Wall.

* * *

The Isle of the Lost is less tempting a target for the kaiju, but they are still conveniently right next to the tear. There is no more barrier around the Isle, but there are also no more barges from Auradon.

Many islanders make confused, fearful noises, surely the heroes won’t leave them to die? But they are villains, and the kids of villains, what do heroes care for their lives?

“Are we Auradon? Scurrying around in fear whenever things get tough? Do we run and hide behind barriers like those spineless sea-slugs? No!” Jemma Hook shouts, standing atop a tin roof, every inch a brave captain her father only pretended to be, “We fight!”

Even villains know that in the face of a greater force, cooperation is key to survival. Carlos is given whatever he needs.

* * *

Auradon no longer cares about what happens to the Isle of the Lost. They are too busy trying to survive. Many citizens escape inland, to other kingdoms and nations and entirely, if they can. But not all can, not all choose to.

The royal family will not leave, not while there is still someone under their protection that remains. They were once the kingdom to which others sought refuge, besieged by their respective villains. But this time, the enemy is not a single megalomaniac whose pride will ultimately be their downfall, it is not something that can be outsmarted or outlasted.

The Wall means nothing to the kaiju and, soon enough, distance from the ocean will mean nothing to them either.

* * *

The first jaeger is an ugly thing, cobbled together from defunct ships and old automobile parts. Carlos still has it painted red and white and black. It is ten times the size of the tallest building on the Isle, and still smaller than the most recent kaiju sighted.

“If anyone is going to captain this crocodile killer,” Jemma says, back straight and chin up despite the suicide mission it entails, or maybe because of it, “It’ll be me.”

That first jaeger is named Jolly Roger. Despite being a prototype, it holds up remarkably well against the kaiju. The same cannot be said of it’s captain.

After the Jolly Roger’s fourth battle, Jemma has to be helped out of the cockpit, blood streaming from both nostrils. She waves it away as no big deal.

It takes three more battles for Carlos to realize that it’s not enough, One jaeger is not enough. One captain is not enough.

* * *

This is not a story about the heroes defeating the villains. This is not a story about villains’ kids realizing their potential for heroism. This is not a story about good versus evil and the unlikely places both can grow. This is not a story about a boy defying both nature and nurture to save the world. 

This is a story about survival.


	2. Chapter 2

There’s not much left on the Isle to cannibalize into a second jaeger, but Carlos makes it work. The Jolly Roger is just one against a never ending parade of kaiju, and he knows Jemma won’t be able to last for much longer alone.

The second jaeger is designed with data collected from the Jolly Roger’s battles. The second jaeger is larger, deadlier, and more advanced. The second jaeger is designed for two pilots.

Carlos builds it thinking it’ll be named Gaston the Fourth, thinking that who best to co-pilot a jaeger than two twin brothers with the same obnoxious personality and belief that their father was the true hero of his story.

Fortunately, the second jaeger does not get named Gaston the Fourth because, unfortunately, the Gaston twins cannot pilot it together. Their identical dispositions mean that they both try to dominate the other for control over the jaeger. They think the same but they don’t think together; two people screaming at each other, instead of speaking to each other.

For three days, Carlos stares up at the second jaeger, bewildered and devastated. Its cockpit remains empty.

* * *

Auradon first learns of the jaeger program when the Jolly Roger’s eleventh battle brings it nearer to the coast than any villain or descendant of a villain has been in two decades. Only those at the Wall see it, but the news of something fighting back against a kaiju, beating it back even, makes its way swiftly to the royal family.

It is hope. They have known for a while that the Wall was just busy work, something to show their people that efforts were being made, but this news–this is good news.

Until word of what the machine looked like is sent. Red and black and white, a skull and crossbones; pirates.

And for the first time in nearly a year, Auradon remembers the Isle of the Lost.

* * *

It would have been four days, except Harry and Jace come for him. Carlos has never considered them friends, only minions inherited from his mother, but he’s grateful for them now. Jace makes sure Carlos is washed and fed and watered. Harry tells him what has been happening with the Jolly Roger, with Jemma.

“She took out a class two, but it ripped up the connections in JR’s right arm. I’ve had the other techs begin working on repairs, but it’ll be at least a week until it’s back to fighting fit,” Harry says, speaking loud enough so Carlos can hear her while Jace shampoos his hair. Carlos doesn’t care how potentially embarrassing this is, how he’s being treated like an incompetent child, he’s tired and the movements are actually kind of soothing.

“That’s bad,” Carlos says when Harry hesitates, thinking she’s looking for a response of some kind.

“It gets worse,” she says, because of course it does, “Jemma’s in the hospital.”

The chill washing down his spine has nothing to do with the bucket of water Jace pours over his head.

“That’s happened before,” Carlos splutters, spitting water and shampoo and denial, “She’ll be out in a few hours.”

“It’s already been two days.”

* * *

Auradon is hardly a kingdom anymore, but it still has a king. Or rather, two kings.

“We need to help them,” Ben argues, voice firm with conviction.

“We’ll find some other way,” his father says, more stubborn than logical.

“What other way? What other way can there be that we haven’t already tried?” Ben asks, waving at the Fairy Godmother who has decided to stay in Auradon–after evacuating her school, daughter included, to a neighboring kingdom of course.

“It wasn’t magic,” she says, her now ever-present wand gripped uselessly in her hand, “This is beyond magic,” the smallest, saddest smile graces her lips, “this is human ingenuity.”

Fairy Godmother’s side made clear, Ben knows he has won.

Regardless, his father roars, “You’ll be giving them the means to destroy us!” his fear fueling anger.

“No,” Ben says, “I’m giving them the means to save us.”

* * *

The first dual event happens less than ten hours after Jemma, finally awake after an eight day long coma, has been cleared to leave the hospital. Cleared to leave but not cleared to pilot.

It doesn’t matter. The Jolly Roger is the only jaeger they have.

Except, not really.

Carlos stares at the second jaeger, built and empty, unpainted, unnamed. There’s a license plate whose letters and numbers are still legible, GB-Y136 slanted on the jaeger’s torso.

The Jolly Roger has barely been enough to defeat one kaiju lately, it won’t win against two. Jemma will die on her own.

Behind him, Carlos hears footsteps and breathing. He knows who they are without turning; they have shadowed him his entire life, his minions, his guardians.

“The Gaston twins can’t pilot it,” he says, because it’s the truth. “It’s built for two.”

Jace says, “It doesn’t need identical minds.”

“It needs compatible minds,” Harry finishes.

* * *

Ben stands in the ruins of Charmington, the first living person to do so in months. Chip, a few steps behind him, is the second.

Charmington is the closest point of Auradon to the Isle. If they’re going to cross the ocean, they’re going to minimize the amount of travel time necessary.

And it is necessary. Ever since the fall of the barrier, the awakening of the kaiju, there has been no communication between kingdom and island. If Auradon is going to… if Ben is going to help the Isle, he is going to have to be the one to reach out.

“Are you sure you want to come with me?” Ben asks.

“To be honest? No,” Chip says, but he lays a reassuring hand on Ben’s shoulder, “But more because I’d prefer it if you weren’t going at all. I followed your mother back when I was made out of porcelain, I’m a little hardier now. I’m not letting you go alone.”

Ben sighs, a seventeen year old boy, a king of a destroyed country.

“Let’s go to the Isle.”

* * *

The first dual event leads to the debut of the second jaeger, the Hell Jalopy.

It is also the Jolly Roger’s last fight. Captain Jemma Hook dies in battle, brain too stressed in too short a time.

Carlos has the techs deconstruct the Jolly Roger for parts, to be rebuilt into a new jaeger, because they cannot afford to have it standing empty. But he keeps the panel the skull and crossbones are painted onto, hangs it up beside the docked Hell Jalopy and the construction of the third jaeger. Anyone who passes by, which is nearly all of the islanders, will be able to see, will remember.

Carlos wears the crossbones on his back and fails to stop thinking about– Uri, killed. Jemma, dead. Harry and Jace, jaeger pilots–how he hasn’t heard from Mal or Evie or Jay for almost a year. Not since their parents sacrificed a boy to kickstart the end of the world.


	3. Chapter 3

Ben has never been on the Isle before. Has never expected to. Even when, before the kaiju, he thought about mending the gap between Isle and Auradon it was always the islanders going to Auradon, never the other way around.

Its like a different world.

It looks a little like they’ve already lived through an attack–but instead of fleeing, they rebuilt. Not as neat or as pretty, but at least they tried. Not like Charmington, not like Auradon.

Not like they had a choice.

There was no option for them to abandon their home. Not without working boats. Not without access to the magic bridge. Not without Auradon. Ben is galled at himself. He didn’t think of them during their time of need and now he comes to them during his?

Then he spots them, the giant machines, standing tall by the docks. As mismatched and unattractive as the Isle they guard, and just as tenacious. The Isle’s answer to the end of the world. Auradon’s last hope.

* * *

They salvage as much as they can from the Jolly Roger, but it’s not enough to make another two-pilot jaeger. And Carlos is not going to make another single person jaeger. Not again, not yet.

They’re desperate, but the Hell Jalopy is doing well enough, they’re not that desperate. And even then, so what? They’d have one double jaeger and a single jaeger? That’s not sustainable, not in the long run.

The Isle has always been able to make do on the scraps and leftovers from Auradon, but now? Now they need more. But more than that, now they have the means to get more.

No barges, sure, but the Hell Jalopy can just as easily raid Auradon as it can fight kaiju…

… could just as easily ferry the islanders to Auradon.

Wouldn’t that be for the best? Surely it would be better to run than to continue fighting a losing battle?

The painted skull stares at him accusingly.

* * *

The car that Chip and Ben drive to the Isle is several years old, a sedate silver four door sedan, Chip’s car for personal use. No need to antagonize them, he said, a limo would be patronizing.

As it is, Chip’s car is still the shiniest and cleanest thing on the Isle. Even without the magical glowing bridge of an entrance, the car would stand out simply by how new it is.

And by how it has yet to be deconstructed into jaeger parts. Even without knowing it’s passengers, a crowd of islanders gather around glaring at the car; mistrustful, angry, assessing.

It’s not a secret that the decommissioned Jolly Roger is incomplete.

Chip stops the car, both of them step out.

The crowd grows, but there is an empty circle of space around the car.

For now.

* * *

Carlos only finds out about the car from Auradon two hours after it is first spotted. Only because he asks someone where Harry and Jace are, and the person he asks instinctively answers with the truth despite what her fellow techies gesture behind his back.

Ever since the kaiju, ever since the jaegers, Carlos has been… revered but not necessarily deferred to. He is the head of the jaeger program and anything he needs he gets, but that doesn’t make him a leader.

Before the kaiju, the Isle was a state of anarchy, and the only thing that had authority was power. Before the kaiju, the closest things to leaders were the strongest, baddest villains. The same ones who unleashed the kaiju on the Isle.

The new post-kaiju Isle is now united under two goals–survive and build the jaegers. With that in mind, the closest thing to a leader wasn’t Carlos. It was Jemma.

Now, perhaps, it is Harry and Jace by default. But Harry and Jace have always been Carlos’ in a way Jemma wasn’t.

He goes to them: his minions, his jaeger pilots, his responsibilities. He goes to their meeting with Auradon.

* * *

Chip is sure it would have turned into a riot, had the two jaeger pilots not showed up. As it is, he’s not entirely confident that his car will still be there when he and Ben get back. Not completely, anyway.

“Just two people, in that huge machine?” Chip asks, enthusiasm nonetheless shining through. Beside him, Ben looks doubtfully at his mug of slop. What was he expecting from something called the Slop Shop?

Harry and Jace wear their pride like a new, ill-fitting jacket. Like they’re not used to being the heroes.

“The Hell Jalopy was designed for two people, to share the burden of piloting,” Jace says, a strange twist on his mouth.

“The Jolly Roger only needed one person, but it was smaller,” Harry adds, tracing out a shape with her finger, a circle and an x.

“The Jolly Roger, the red jaeger?” Ben asks, “It looked about the same height when we saw it.”

The jaeger pilots share a look, silent and troubled, before turning back to Ben and Chip. They do not explain.

“That’s not the Jolly Roger,” a boy says, from behind them, not much younger than Ben. He is wearing a red, black, and white jacket and when he passes them to snag a seat next to Harry and Jace, Ben can see crossbones on his back.

Ben has spotted the symbol frequently in the past few hours, visible but small on nearly every islander’s clothing. Nowhere near as large as the one worn by this boy.

“Not anymore, anyway,” the boy continues, not even blinking as Jace stands up and moves to sit on his other side, bracketing the boy in between Harry and Jace.

It reminds Ben of himself and Chip, of royalty and their bodyguards. And if Harry and Jace, the two pilots of one of the jaegers, the people that could preemptively stop a crowd from becoming a mob, are bodyguards to this boy. Then that means,

“Are you the pilot of the Jolly Roger?”

* * *

Carlos can feel a sardonic smile curl onto his lips, “Captain Hook is dead,” he says, and that damned painted panel flashes through his mind.

“James Hook is dead?” The boy says in confusion, blue suit neat and clean and screaming of Auradon as much as his answer does.

“You’ve got a lot to learn, Auradon. That coward is probably alive somewhere,” Carlos says bluntly, “Jemma Hook is the only Captain Hook that matters anymore.”

“If you’re not a jaeger pilot, then who are you?” The man says, suspicion about on par with an islander toddler.

He can hear Harry chuckling beside him, and on his other side, Jace’s shoulders jostle his with silent laughter. He can even hear amused whispers from the other customers of the Slop Shop, eavesdropping unashamedly.

“Someone’s got to build the jaegers,” Carlos begins.

“That someone is you,” the other boy finishes, more wonder than disbelief, but a decent amount of both.

Carlos laughs, “Now you’re getting it, Auradon.”


	4. Chapter 4

What ensues during the following months is the strangest rivalry the Isle has ever seen. It’s also the most argumentative courtship Chip has ever witnessed which, considering what his childhood was like, is certainly saying something. The different views probably explain the confusion.

Carlos asks for cars, Ben gives him cars. And boats. And computers. And planes, because why not.

Carlos asks for better tools, Ben provides those. As well as access to factories and Auradon technicians who don’t mind working alongside islanders or under a teenager.

Carlos asks for pilots, and Ben volunteers himself… until drift compatibility is explained to him.

“You can’t just jump in a jaeger with a random person and hope for the best, Auradon,” Carlos says, refusing to even learn Ben’s name, much less use it, “The pilots have to be compatible in order to share the controls. Otherwise you’ll end up with the disaster that would have been Gaston the Fourth.”

Ben grimaces at the mention, and not just because of the stories his mother has told him about her youth.

Carlos seems to think of him as a challenge and a resource, for some reason prickly at Ben’s generosity but willing enough to answer his questions. The rest of the Isle look at him with a collective bemusement, cautious but grateful, and a little entertained by his interactions with their jaeger program head.

But the Gaston twins? It’s not like Ben has announced his parentage–the islanders just seem to take his identity as Auradon at face value–but those two seem to somehow know, as if expecting him to transform into a monster at any second.

Or maybe it’s jealousy. They were supposed to have been jaeger pilots instead of Harry and Jace, it would have been their opportunity to be heroes as they seemed to think of themselves. For Ben to arrive and successfully aid the program without being a pilot himself, well. Just imagine how pissed they would be if they knew who he actually was.

* * *

With all the material he’s getting from Auradon, building a two-person jaeger out of the remains of the Jolly Roger is no longer a problem. In fact, they have enough for another two double jaegers, which Carlos sets his technician teams to work on. Auradon gave him actual engineers who follow his directions; that guy is so strange.

The problem now isn’t the lack of jaeger parts, or a lack of technicians, it’s a lack of jaeger pilots.

No matter how willing Auradon seems to be, it’s not just a matter of stuffing two random volunteers into the cockpit. If it were just that, there wouldn’t be a problem–sure the Isle is made up of villains and evildoers and their despicable descendants, but there have been a lot of islanders willing to risk their lives to save their friends and family.

Really, they were lucky that Harry and Jace were drift compatible, that the Hell Jalopy has a stable pair of pilots.

They need drift compatible pilots, and there aren’t any more on the Isle. Even including the engineers, Chip, and Auradon himself.

Carlos thinks this will be the sticking point. It’s one thing to give materials, one thing to have people build the jaegers, but piloting is dangerous. Has already proven deadly. Auradon may be willing to volunteer himself, but there’s no way he can get others to do it.

He’s just one guy, not the personification of a kingdom. Carlos knows what it’s like now to be seen as more than himself, as a means to an end instead of just a boy, the head of the jaeger program instead of Carlos De Vil. He shouldn’t expect so much from the other boy, no matter what he calls him.

* * *

Ben knows that being a good king isn’t about power. It’s not about absolute rule backed by strength and fear. It’s respect. It’s asking his people to do something, and having them agree because they believe in it too.

The engineers working on the Isle now? They were the ones working on the Wall, despite knowing how futile it was against the kaiju. They were the ones who saw the Jolly Roger fight back. They know, more than Ben does, just how important the jaeger program really is.

There’s no difficulty in getting people with faith in something to help contribute to that cause.

But pilots are another matter.

“They have to be teenagers,” Harry admits, because Carlos won’t.

“Have to?” Chip asks–like Ben, he’s been helping out with the jaeger program as much as he can, and has become fond of the islanders that are part of it.

“Carlos tried to change the programming,” Jace says, “There are at least a few parents who would rather be pilots than watch their kids do it,” though on the Isle, that number isn’t very high.

“It’s the compatibility–adults have a stronger sense of self than most teenagers,” Harry explains with a shrug.

Teenaged volunteers for jaeger pilots… this particular request is going to be harder than Ben thought.

* * *

Auradon leaves the Isle. He says it’s to find jaeger pilots, but Carlos knows it’s an impossible mission. At best, Carlos expects him to come back having tried and failed, a sheepish smile on his lips, with a few more planes and technicians as a consolation prize.

At worst? Well… no, no need to even consider that. He’ll come back, he has to. He’s left Chip behind, there’s no way Auradon won’t come back.

Carlos spends the next few weeks a little snappish and irritable, combing over every little move the technicians make until Harry and Jace bodily remove him from the jaeger docks.

“You’re making them nervous,” Jace scolds.

“Of course they’re going to make more mistakes when you’re breathing down their necks,” Harry adds, shaking Carlos by the collar of his jacket. She hasn’t done that in ages, and not because of his growth spurt.

“They have your blueprints, they know what they’re doing, just let them build in peace.” Jace finishes, before handing Carlos a sandwich. The food on the Isle has gotten better too, yet another thing Auradon keeps giving him. Them. The Isle, that is.

“What’s wrong with you?” Harry asks, when it appears that not even food can make his bad mood go away.

“I’m thinking about Jemma,” Carlos deflects, though now that he says it, he really is, “I wonder if… had I known to split the control of the Jolly Roger…”

“It’s not your fault,” Jace reassures quickly.

“Yeah, I know,” sometimes Carlos does, anyway, “But what I meant was. Who she would have been drift compatible with. Maybe I would’ve–”

“Except we need you to build the jaegers, not pilot it,” Harry interrupts.

To which Carlos scowls, but agrees, “Yes, that. But I wonder if… maybe she would have been drift compatible with Uri.”

Harry and Jace share a worried, knowing glance.

“I wonder what happened to them,” Carlos continues; there is only one particular set of ‘them’ that could refer to.

* * *

Time moves differently on this side of the tear. They know it’s been over a year, they have watched their friend change and grow and lose so much. Whenever they can, whenever they feel safe enough, they crowd around Evie’s tiny mirror and watch him.

They know that months have passed. But to them, it only feels like days. A few weeks at most, really.

They need to get back. Somehow. They need to get back to Carlos. To tell him what they’ve seen, to tell him what’s coming.

To tell him how to stop the kaiju for good.


	5. Chapter 5

The students of Auradon Prep were among the first to be evacuated, the children of royalty and nobility, the upper class. Most of them are now students at Sherwood High, though it’s very easy to tell which students are Falcons and which are Knights at heart.

This is where Ben goes.

He never had a coronation, and anyway, a foreign king has no authority in a different land. But the headmaster indulges Ben, lets him hold an assembly. And so Ben talks.

He tells them news of their kingdom. Of the people still left behind, of the Wall that does nothing. Then he begins speaking of the Isle.

And this is when discontent rumbles begin. There are still people who believe that the kaiju are from the Isle. An evil scheme of some villain’s gone horribly wrong.

But Ben perseveres, because he knows it’s not true. He talks about what he’s learned on the Isle about the jaegers, about the real Captain Hook, about Harry and Jace. About how they couldn’t leave and decided to fight back. About engineers from the Wall who have decided to join the jaeger program.

And he talks about Carlos, not by name, but he talks. About a boy so brilliant that he’s built the means to save Auradon, a boy who has the weight of not only one but two nations resting on his shoulders, a boy who asks Ben for help–not really expecting to receive it, but asking all the same.

Ben talks. And he asks. Because that’s all he can do now. He asks for volunteers, for jaeger pilots.

The silence is heavy.

* * *

Carlos is deep in the guts of the third jaeger–one of the jaegers built entirely without Isle scraps and so a little more advanced and finicky than the Hell Jalopy–when he hears news that Auradon is back.

Carlos doesn’t rush out immediately to see him–he’s in the middle of something important, okay–but as soon as he troubleshoots the issue he delegates the actual repairs to one of the technicians rather than do it himself. He’s head of the jaeger program, he’s allowed to do that.

When he gets there, Harry, Jace, and Chip are already out welcoming back Auradon and two girls. Carlos’ steps slow down, taking in the scene. There is only the one car–no follow up van full of engineers, no cars or boats or planes to be deconstructed. Just Auradon and two girls.

No way.

“Carlos!” Auradon calls out, waving him over, and Carlos goes–not because Auradon waved him over, just because he was headed over there anyway. “This is Jane and Lonnie,” Auradon introduces the two girls with a smile, “They’re–”

“Pilots,” Carlos breathes shakily. That’s impossible. Carlos never actually expected Auradon to come back with, “You got me pilots.”

Auradon’s grows sheepish, “Well, we don’t know if they’re drift compatible yet, but I think–”

“You got me pilots!” Carlos repeats, in disbelief. He looks at the two girls, calculations and modifications already running through his head, he turns back to look at the completed jaeger next to the Hell Jalopy, their future jaeger.

He spots the skull and crossbones of the Jolly Roger.

He turns back. Looks at the two girls, the two pilots, who smile in mild confusion at him. Stares at Auradon whose smile has become wider, softer.

“You asked for pilots, Carlos,” Auradon reminds, gently teasing.

He can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, “You got me pilots,” Carlos repeats for the final time, numb with realization, “And I made jaegers to fight your enemies.”

The smiles drop off everyone’s faces, but Auradon’s is the only one Carlos is watching. He looks concerned now, but gamely goes along.

“The kaiju are your enemies, too. They’re everyone’s enemies.” Auradon says, reaching out to put a hand on Carlos shoulder. It’s not the first time, but Carlos jerks away.

The painted skull flashes through his mind, the crossbones on his back burn.

“I… have to go,” Carlos says, before retreating completely. Away from Harry and Jace and Chip and Auradon and the two girls. The two pilots that Auradon got for Carlos.

The closest thing Carlos has ever heard to a declaration of love was from Jemma, for Uri. He would send storms after her enemies, and she would give him prisoners. But that was all hypothetical, those were just dreams of land-locked lovers yearning for the ocean. None of that really happened.

But Carlos–Carlos has been building jaegers even before meeting Auradon, it’s why they’ve even met. But the newer jaegers are built out of material Auradon has given him, by technicians Auradon has given him. They’ll be piloted by volunteers Auradon has given him.

It’s not the same, Carlos thinks to himself.

Because it’s real, a small voice whispers back.

Carlos doesn’t know what to do.

* * *

Carlos might be avoiding Ben and he doesn’t know why. Harry and Jace don’t know why either. Chip might, or at least acts likes he knows, which is strange because it’s not like Carlos talks to Chip very often. Or at least he doesn’t think so. Do they? What would they even talk about that Ben can’t talk about with Carlos?

Anyway.

Except for that, everything is going great.

Jane and Lonnie are, in fact, drift compatible. Which is a little surprising but makes sense: they were the first to volunteer, the only ones to volunteer so far. They’re hesitant when it comes to interacting with the islanders, but they take well to the pilot training. Along with both being brave, Jane and Lonnie apparently both like to fight dirty. It certainly boosts their image on the Isle at least.

None too soon, the next double event happens; the Rebel Watcher fights alongside the Hell Jalopy, no major injuries amongst the four pilots. The repairs to the jaegers are easy enough to fix, doesn’t delay the completion of the third and fourth jaegers at all. More volunteers will come, surely, more pilots to fill those empty jaegers.

Ben knows this is the beginning of the end; they can actually win against the kaiju.

And it’s all thanks to Carlos.

Now if only Ben can get Carlos to speak to him.

* * *

Jane and Lonnie, having adapted to life in the jaeger program, are the ones who finally pin Carlos down long enough for Auradon to catch him. To be fair, though, Carlos really thought Lonnie had a question about Rebel Watcher, and, well, Jane does like to fight dirty.

“I’d say she learned that here, but I think she’s always secretly been like that,” Auradon says, only somewhat apologetically, as he holds out a hand to help Carlos up.

Reluctantly, Carlos takes it.

“Hey, Carlos,” Auradon says, a small hesitant smile on his face.

Carlos sighs, the knowledge that he can’t outrun the other boy rooting his feet to the ground, not guilt. He doesn’t know what’s making him keep their hands linked. “Hey, Auradon,” Carlos says back.

“I think you’ve been avoiding me,” he says, and as if to ward off that possibility, Auradon interlaces their fingers.

Carlos has never been one for confrontations, but he’s pretty sure this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

“You got me jaeger pilots,” Carlos says, hushed like it were a secret.

“Yeah, and one of them tripped you and sat on your back just a few minutes ago,” Auradon reminds, a laugh hidden in his voice.

“I didn’t really think you would,” Carlos admits.

“You didn’t think I’d be able to?” Auradon asks, maybe a little hurt, “I mean, it was pretty difficult, but I was able to get everything else–”

“That’s why–” Carlos interrupts, then bites back, looks away.

“That’s why what?” Auradon reaches out with his other hand, gently guides Carlos’ face back up to meet his eyes.

Frustrated, Carlos blurts out, “You’ve already given me so much. Materials and technicians and even food! And then you got me pilots!”

“Because you needed them,” Auradon says, “Everything I gave was because the Isle and the jaeger program needed them.”

“Oh,” Carlos says, heart sinking into his stomach. Everything for the jaeger program.

He tries to pull his hand away, but Auradon tightens his grip. “Everything I gave was for the jaeger program because you only ever asked for things on behalf of it. You never asked for anything for yourself,” he says, and he waits for Carlos’ startled gaze to meet his own, “What do you want, Carlos? What can I get for you?”

“Why–are you trying to impress me?” Carlos stammers, flustered in the face of Auradon’s sincerity.

He smiles, and Carlos can feel a flush spreading across his own face in response, “You’ve already impressed me, Carlos. I just want to reciprocate.”


	6. Chapter 6

There is really only one thing that Carlos–Carlos the boy, not Carlos the head of the jaeger program–wants.

He wants his friends.

It’s not something that’s easy to admit. The Isle has been critical of such soft, positive emotions–you have minions or a gang or, if you’re particularly lucky, partners in crime–but friends are for the weak. Friendship just means admitting a person is your weak spot.

But that was before. There’s a new world order on the Isle; in the face of kaiju, posturing as a tough, heartless loner is not only useless, but detrimental. Survival means cooperation now. The strongest of them, the jaeger pilots, are only such because they are drift compatible. To protect one’s family, for the love of lost friends, to contribute to the community–that’s what the Isle now holds above all else.

But it’s a lifetime of conditioning to work against, so it’s still difficult to admit. And, truth be told, Carlos is scared.

It’s a selfish request, to risk their source of, well, everything, just to try and figure out what happened to three people who may or may not be…

Carlos doesn’t know what happened to them; the mystery is as much a source of hope as it is despair. If he doesn’t know, then their deaths can’t be confirmed, they could still be alive. But surely, if they were still alive, they would have come back by now?

And what use would it be to know now, after over a year? What if its dangerous, what if it’s pointless, what if…

But Auradon asks, and that’s the only thing Carlos wants.

* * *

“You don’t have to,” Carlos says, fingers tugging nervously with the ends of his gloves. He’s said the same thing dozens of times already, voice conflicted, eyes filled with both hope and fear, “You don’t have to, really.”

“Auradon,” Ben says, just to get Carlos to look at him. At Ben. Not a resource, not a king, just Ben.

“What?”

“That’s what you call me. And, you know, there’s a bit of a tradition in my kingdom,” Curiosity makes Carlos quiet, waiting for more. It’s better than him being worried, so Ben continues, “A boy goes on a quest to prove that he’s worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” Carlos asks, confused.

“I don’t know yet,” Ben says with a laugh. Carlos wrinkles his nose, to which Ben shrugs helplessly, “I’ll bring them back to you,” he says seriously, grasping both of Carlos’ hands to stop his fidgeting. And because he wants to, “One way or another, I’ll find them and I’ll bring them back to you,” Ben vows.

This vow is more crucial than bringing back cars and boats and planes and engineers and pilots. Because this isn’t a promise between a king and the head of the jaeger program. This is a promise from one boy to another, from a boy in love to the one he loves.

“And when I succeed,” Ben says, squeezing Carlos hands between his own, “I’d like it if you used my real name.” And he brings them up to his lips, brushing a kiss against bare knuckles.

Carlos tugs his hands away, a flush high on his cheeks, and Ben thinks he’s screwed up. But Carlos says, “You’ll have to come back and tell me what it is, then,” before he stomps away, no doubt back to the jaeger docks.

Ben smiles goofily after him, until Chip cuts in with a not so subtle cough. “Very smooth,” he says, completely straight faced.

Ben squints at him suspiciously, unsure if Chip is being sarcastic or not.

“It’s better than your dad at least,” Chip says reassuringly which, considering the story behind his parents’ get together, is not really all that of a consolation.

“Are you sure you want to come with me?” Ben asks, echoing a conversation they had months before.

And like before, Chip says, “I’m not letting you go alone.”

* * *

There is something strange about magic on this side of the tear. Or maybe, on this side of the ritual, on this side of Uri’s death.

The barrier being taken down was just a side affect, the tear between worlds an unintended consequence. The ritual was meant only to use son of a witch as fuel to revive the power of four magicians. Except there weren’t just four magicians–there were seven; even if three of them were young and unknowing.

Rituals are delicate things, everything must be done precisely or else it’ll end up a mess. The magical backlash, along with tearing down the barrier and tearing open a path between worlds, caused enough chaos for the three of them–back up sacrifices and accidental vessels–to escape.

But they didn’t know then which way they were escaping. Instead of going back, to warn the rest of the Isle, they went forward; into the world of the kaiju.

In this world, magic comes easily to them, thankfully. Otherwise how would they have survived without Mal’s constant shield. Without Evie’s precognitive warnings. And how would they have figured out the truth behind the kaiju without Jay’s mind magics pulling the truth out of one.

If only magic could bring them back.

But they’ve learned in the past couple of days–weeks–months–that magic doesn’t always need to be the solution. Not with Carlos.

“He’s sending us a prince,” Evie says, voice elated in a way Mal and Jay haven’t heard since they’ve been trapped on the wrong side of the tear.

“How will that help us?” Jay asks, disbelief blatant in his voice, even as he stares eagerly at Evie’s mirror.

“If he can find the ritual site, he can act as an anchor for us on that side,” Evie explains, excited grip causing the mirror’s frame to dig into her palm.

“We’d be able to find an opening that isn’t where the kaiju are being sent through,” Jay says in understanding.

“However we came through in the first place,” Mal agrees, “If there were some way we could lead him there…” she trails off, unsure. The ritual site had been Ursula’s choice, a cove that she had kept secret from the rest of the island.

“The eels,” Evie suggests, at the same time Jay says, “Lagan and Derelict.”

Mal looks at both of them skeptically before shrugging, “I suppose if anything can get him to Ursula’s secret lair, it’d be Uri’s pets.” And how poetic it would be, if creatures that Uri cared for were to help expose his murder.


	7. Chapter 7

The islanders are reluctant to share their knowledge of what exactly happened, not because they’re distrustful of Ben, but because it involves magic. The only ones who really understood magic were the ones involved, and they’re the ones missing.

“Good riddance,” one woman mutters, face hidden by dirty blonde hair and a grungy scarf.

The woman next to her jostles her sharply, hissing a warning, “If the captain heard you, you’d walk the plank.”

“Well the captain’s dead, she’s not here to protect her damned pet squid. It’s because of him that the kaiju are around.” The woman spits back, before shuffling away when the expression on her conversation partner’s face clearly doesn’t agree.

The remaining woman glares at her retreating back, before turning expectantly to Ben and Chip. Her back is hunched and her clothes are dirty, but the set of crossbones stitched onto her beanie are a bright clean white. “You’ve got questions, then?”

“Yes,” Ben says politely, “I’m trying to figure out–”

“What happened to the other magic kids, eh?” She interrupts, eyebrow raised slyly, “You think the entire Isle don’t know about your mission? And I’m not talking about finding those three.”

Ben tries desperately not to blush.

He obviously fails from the way the woman laughs raucously.

“If you could please–” Chip starts, only to be interrupted as well.

“You’re a bit too clean for my own tastes,” the woman says to Chip appraisingly, “but that can be fixed easily.” She winks, and now Chip is also flustered. Great.

“Ma'am, we need to know what happened.” Ben says, bringing them back on topic, “How is it that Uri’s death is confirmed, but no one knows what happened to the others?”

“That’s easy,” she scoffs, “How else?”

Ben waits for her to explain, but Chip is the one to answer.

“There was a body.”

* * *

It’s not like Carlos is just waiting for Auradon to come back. He has a lot to do around the docks; it comes with the territory of being the head of the jaeger program. That being said, he has no idea why Jane and Lonnie keep following him around.

He’s still a bit suspicious of them, ever since they tricked him into talking to Auradon. So it’s not his fault his face automatically turns into a squinty eyed stare in their presence, especially Jane’s.

“It worked out for the best,” Lonnie says, absolutely steady from her perch on the catwalk railings.

Carlos only grumbles back at her, combing through some basic wire work on the fourth jaeger. Jane, at least, has the decency to sit on the actual walkway, safe from tipping over. Not that her being in Carlos’ peripheral vision is making him any less nervous.

“I think it’s absolutely romantic,” Jane sighs, head propped in her hand, and Carlos is not fooled at all.

But he still asks, “What is?” and ignores the feverish sensation on the tips of his ears.

“A knight on a quest to prove his love,” Jane responds wistfully. Carlos wonders if this is what she was like before coming to the Isle, if she would have been just a daydreaming teenage girl, instead of a jaeger pilot capable of destroying giant monsters. Well, now he gets to deal with both.

Lonnie hums in agreement–correction, now Carlos gets to deal with both twice over–before adding, “Usually the prince ends up with the rescued princess, but traditional stories are so two decades ago.”

Jane barks out a laugh, “It’s not like your parents were very traditional,” she reminds teasingly.

“I like to think they were trendsetters,” Lonnie shoots back.

Their easy banter washes over him, familiar at least, if not soothing, after weeks of it; but Carlos is still stuck on something in particular.

“Auradon is a prince?”

* * *

Finding where Jemma Hook is buried is easy. Finding where Jemma Hook buried Uri? Not so much.

“Captain was real torn up about his death,” a man nearly two feet taller than Chip says morosely, casually shrugging a crate of potatoes onto one shoulder, “She would’ve buried him wherever she hid her treasure.”

“Good luck finding that,” someone else snorts, unashamedly interjecting himself into their conversation, “She kept that a secret to her own grave.”

“It’s true,” the first man says, “Any decent pirate would have a hidden stash, Captain Hook’s would be particularly hard to find.”

“You know, if anyone could find it,” The second man suggests, “It would be that damn thief; or maybe the princess, if there were enough gems.”

“You think this boy would be bothering with the Captain’s treasure if he already had Carlos’ gang?” The first man scoffs, reaching out to cuff the other on the back of the head.

It nearly bowls him over, but he keeps to his feet, “Just saying,” he scowls.

“No wait,” a third person says, bodily inserting herself into their discussion by ducking under the first man’s arm, “He’s onto something. The ones who would best be able to find the captain’s treasure would be Jay and Evie.”

“Neither of whom we have,” Chip reminds.

“So the closest thing you have to that is their parrot.” The girl says, a mischievous grin on her face.

“A parrot,” Ben finally says, leaning forward in interest, “Tell me more.”

* * *

“Don’t you dare hurt Othello,” Evie warns, even as she brings up his image onto her mirror and passes it over to Jay.

“You think I’m going to risk our one chance by purposefully messing with that bird?” he asks, hands on the mirror, eyes beginning to glow.

“There’s a reason he likes me better,” Evie says, before turning silent, focusing on her precognitive abilities. She needs to keep an eye out for any of their hunters, especially now that Jay is occupied with possessing Othello and Mal has brought down their shield. They’re not actually sure if it will work, which is why Mal is using her magic to amplify Jay’s.

“This is ridiculous,” Mal murmurs. It sounds like one of those fairy tales, she thinks, a prince following a bird to one secret area. Then following another set of animals to a different secret area. All as part of a quest to rescue a princess. So what if that bird is a parrot being magically possessed, and the next set of guides are eels, and there’s an evil fairy’s daughter and an evil sorcerer’s son being rescued alongside the princess? “So ridiculous,” she repeats.

* * *

“This is great!” Ben enthuses as he and Chip pick their way along the trash-strewn shore, following after the blue and yellow parrot. “It’s really like a proper quest.”

Chip, done with absolutely everything–especially the parrot who not only scratched and bit him, but also pooped on his shoulder–is distinctly less impressed.

“Mystery, a hidden treasure, an animal guide,” Ben lists off, before the parrot screeches– “Hurry up!” – and they both pour on the speed.

They wouldn’t want to lose the bird for a second time. At least it seems to be intelligent enough to not only get the gist of what they need, but also to circle back and find them. Suspiciously intelligent, Chip thinks to himself, but that may just be his newly found bias against birds speaking.

The parrot brings them to a rocky outcropping, a small five foot cliff of sorts. Looking around, neither of them can see a place where something can be buried.

“Did this thing take us on a wild goose chase?” Chip asks belligerently, before flinching when the parrot lands on his shoulder.

Ben laughs, out of breath, but his hands clench into fists with irritation as well.

“Lagan! Derelict!” The parrot screeches, disastrously loud right next to Chip’s ear.

It takes a few moments, but soon enough, in the water below them, the long sinuous bodies of two eels appear.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Chip says in disbelief.

“Multiple animal guides,” Ben amends, before steeling himself and jumping into the water. “Come on!” he calls up to Chip.

Chip stares balefully down at him instead, looks at the parrot on his shoulder in commiseration, realizes he’s doing so, and decides to flee from the feathered pest by jumping down after Ben.

The water is cold and kind of slimy feeling and Chip hates everything about this. He says as much.

Ben just grins obnoxiously back, “It’s not over yet.”


	8. Chapter 8

The eels lead them to a cove. It is somehow both shadowy and glowing strangely, ominously. Ben shakes himself out to dry, drops of water flying everywhere, and normally Chip would says something about that tendency but not now. Not here.

Chip waves his fingers and stomps his feet, not in an effort to get dry, but because he can feel the creeping sensation of magic. His skin feels like it’s hardening, turning back into brittle porcelain, his limbs disappearing, and soon he’ll be nothing more than a teacup again.

It’s not happening, of course, it’s not. But that’s always what evil magic feels like to him. And this place has the residual energy of something definitely bad.

The eels, being aquatic creatures, cannot follow them onto the shore, but they wait in the water. Patiently.

“Over here,” Ben calls, and he is standing disturbingly close to what appears to be a large cauldron.

Chip shudders, but joins him.

The cauldron, much like the cove, is insidiously luminous, the contents unable to be looked at directly. And yet, despite the light radiating from within it, the cauldron seems dormant somehow.

Then Ben touches it, and the light grows and spreads and becomes absolutely blinding.

* * *

Part of the jaeger program involves an array of sensors attached to buoys in the water, ready to alert the Isle when and where kaiju surface. It’s not a particularly precise method, implemented early on before Auradon’s contributions, but it’s good enough to tell when–

“Double event!” One of the technicians yell, and it starts and echo throughout the docks, triggering a launch sequence. The jaeger pilots are found and prepped, any repairs or modifications being done on the Hell Jalopy and the Rebel Watcher finished as efficiently as possible, and both jaegers are sent out.

“What do we have?” Carlos asks, from his place at the center of the control room. Arrayed in a circle around him are technicians, eyes glued to monitors displaying the sensor array, the readings from the jaegers, the readings from the pilots’ suits, everything.

“Two class fours, three miles west” someone calls out, already starting up the warning sirens for the Isle. Others are speaking into their headsets, talking to the other technicians on the ground, to the pilots in their cockpits already marching towards battle.

They haven’t had double class fours yet, but they’ve been expecting it. The level of the kaiju appearing have been increasing, as have the frequency. And the quantity. So it’s with dread, but not surprise, that Carlos hears,

“Triple event.”

It’s said in a low voice, but around the control room the roar of action has silenced. It’s said in disbelief, in fear.

“Triple event,” the technician repeats, “There’s a class five kaiju, two miles. Northeast.”

* * *

A prince touches a cauldron and sets three magicians free. Phrased like that, it really does sound like something out of a fairy tale. But this isn’t that kind of story, not truly, and there was a bit more to it than that.

The prince touches a cauldron, a small tear between worlds, one of many such tears surrounding the Isle. But this one is different; this one is the first.

In that other monster-filled world, three young magicians move quickly, silently, carefully. This is their one chance to go back home, they cannot afford to be stopped now.

With the prince acting as an anchor, a beacon, they know where the cauldron entrance is on this side. The landscape of this world is strange and twisted, the light of whatever scorching star playing tricks on their eyes so used sunlight.

But magic doesn’t need sight, or maybe it grants a different kind of sight, because suddenly Evie can see the exit. A tear too small for the kaiju and their masters to take advantage of, but just the right size for them to escape.

A prince touches a cauldron and sets three magicians free.

* * *

After that announcement, the control room erupts into a burst of sound, panicked, distressed. A technician pulls up the sensor array onto a larger screen so everyone can see the two symbols representing the jaegers, the two symbols for the class fours, and the symbol of the class five. In a completely different direction, closer to the Isle and incoming.

There are discussions as they weigh their options, the a dozen voices simultaneously speaking. Do they call back the jaegers to fight the class five? But they are already en route to the class fours, they might not make it in time before all three are at the Isle. But if they go after the class fours, the Isle is undefended.

Maybe only one should turn back, split the jaegers, split the defense. But neither of the jaegers can handle a dual event on their own, certainly untested against a dual event of class fours. They’ve never had a class five before, either, they don’t know if a single jaeger will be enough.

There are two more jaegers; empty, but functional. They just need to be filled.

“Have HJ and RW continue towards the class fours,” Carlos says, twice when conversations keep happening after the first time. The control room silences once more, “Prep one of the remaining jaegers, and get two pilot suits,” there is a pause, the silence continues. “Now!” Carlos shouts, no longer himself, completely the head of the jaeger program. The techs scramble into action.

One of them, trying not to undermine his authority but needing to speak out, says, “We don’t have another set of pilots. No one is drift compatible, we’ve tested everyone.”

Carlos stares–not at the technicians, still at work, but listening desperately. Not at the sensor array, symbols blinking furiously. Not at the giant figures of the remaining two jaegers, standing, waiting, empty–He stares, right at that damned painted skull and crossbones.

“Not everyone,” he says, because it’s true. “Not me.”

* * *

Chip pulls Ben away from the cauldron almost immediately, fearful of what the sudden surge of energy, this sudden awakening of the cauldron means. His insides feel scooped out, body too fragile to stand up against what the wave of magic means. But still he pulls Ben away from the cauldron, pulls Ben behind him, stands ready to fight.

Clambering out of the cauldron are three silhouettes, the only breaks of shadow in the odd distorted beam of light. One of them touches cauldron and suddenly it’s as if the world has gone dark, the difference too sudden and too drastic for their eyes to adjust.

“You certainly took your time,” one of them says, a girl’s voice, flat and unimpressed.

“You’re the prince Carlos sent,” a different girl’s voice says, “The one he calls Auradon,” and the statement piques Ben’s interest, causes him to circle around Chip.

He hears a shuffling sound, a footfall on sand; Ben squints to see, the tall, buff burgundy figure step protectively in front of the other two.

“Yes,” Ben says, empty hands raised as a show of good faith, “That’s me.”

“Well congratulations,” the first girl says, “you’ve found us.”


	9. Chapter 9

There’s something almost electrifying in the air, and it has nothing to do with cauldron’s inert energy. Ben stares, letting his eyes adjust: purple-haired Mal, blue-haired Evie, and Jay whose biceps probably are the size of his head. Carlos’ friends.

None of them move, a sense of astonishment on all sides making them pause and take it in. Mal, Evie, and Jay reveling in the fact of finally being home, Ben in the success of having completed his quest.

Then Evie hisses sharply, a gloved hand rising to her temple, “Carlos,” she breathes, as if in pain. “He needs us now.”

“Time to go,” Mal says brusquely, stepping towards the shore.

Ben–unaware of what exactly is going on, but reacting to both Mal’s order and the thought of Carlos needing help–follows her, Chip trailing behind him.

“Lagan! Derelict!” Jay calls out, and the eels sway in the water almost playfully at their names, before disappearing.

They come back, moments later, with a rickety but water-worthy dinghy. The girls climb in first, Jay keeping it steady before he climbs in as well. Ben and Chip join them, though not without a mild complaint from the latter, “There was a boat this entire time?”

Some force, whether magic or eels, begins pushing the dinghy through the water, back towards the inhabited part of the Isle.

“None of us can swim,” Jay says with a casual shrug, almost challenging someone to say anything about it, before his face twists and he adds, “Well–”

“Uri could,” Evie sighs, hand still against her temple, “He was teaching Jemma before the… before.”

Before the ritual. Before the kaiju. Before his death.

“What happened?” Ben asks, before realizing how that might be misconstrued, “I mean, it’s been over a year since you disappeared. Where were you?”

The other three teenagers look at each other, a silent conversation passing between them through facial expressions alone.

Mal is the one to look him in the eye and answer.

* * *

The pilot suits are strangely comfortable, Carlos thinks. Not that they’re designed to be uncomfortable, just that he would have expected the weight of the armored plates and sensors to be heavier. If anything, he feels free.

There are no crossbones on his suit.

“We have a match,” the drift analyst says solemnly. But everything about this situation would instill solemnity, so Carlos doesn’t take offense.

Some of the techs, the ones not up in the control room, the ones on the ground prepping the third jaeger–Carlos’ soon to be jaeger–hiss and murmur to each other. Relieved, but uncertain.

“Who is it?” he asks, when nothing else seems to be forthcoming.

“Dreda Tremaine,” the analyst states, so carefully, so hesitantly, that Carlos knows something is up even before the other techs burst into loud denials.

“Quiet,” the head of the jaeger program demands forcefully, “Who is Dreda Tremaine?” Carlos asks, concerned.

She’s one of the ground crew, mostly works on the fourth jaeger. She’s fairly skilled with wire work and but especially talented with firmware.

She’s twelve.

“Why do we even have her scan?” Carlos asks, honestly baffled; the head of the jaeger program asks, a little irritated.

“Everyone who joins the jaeger program gets tested. We… we weren’t sure how long the kaiju would keep coming,” the analyst explains haltingly. For all they knew, the jaeger program would last years longer. They weren’t expecting someone so young to be needed so soon.

“Where is she?” he asks, resigned, both parts of himself in unison.

Around him voices speak up and protest, She’d be over by the fourth jaeger now. You can’t seriously consider it. She’s too young.

“I’m here,” a small thin voice says, and the crowd of technicians part for her. She’s a short girl, dressed in an overly large shapeless technician’s coveralls, grease on her cheeks and her upturned nose. She’s shaking, and her hands are fisted into her pockets, shoulders hunched up to her ears, but she still walks forward and says, “I’m Dreda Tremaine.”

* * *

The past is the past; nothing can change that. Mal talks about the ritual, about the world of the kaiju, but only in the bare minimum. The past should be remembered, yes, should be learned from, but there is a time for reminiscing and that is not now. What they need to talk about is what they’re going to do next.

They know how to stop the kaiju for good. They need the jaegers, they need Carlos.

They need to stop Carlos from getting into the jaeger.

Once back onto solid ground, it’s Ben who leads the way. The Isle has changed over year they’ve been gone and while the jaegers are easily spotted from a distance, Ben is the one who knows how best to get to where they need to go.

The streets and alleys are deserted, as if the people had simply vanished mid-activity. Or as if a warning siren had gone off, alerting people to go to the safe zones. Even as they run, Ben can see that the Hell Jalopy and the Rebel Watcher are gone, only their nameless comrades remaining.

But Ben has also been on the Isle for months now, and there’s something else he notices. He can recognize the difference between a prepped jaeger and a jaeger in sleep mode. One of the nameless jaegers have been powered up.

* * *

There isn’t a pilot suit Dreda’s size, but they modify the smallest they do have to fit her. She changed with no complaint, but Carlos can see they way her tied up hair is swaying, an echo of her bodies’ trembling.

She’s only twelve.

“Hey, Dreda,” Carlos says, and even though he’s not one for comforting people he tries his best, and lays a hand on her shoulder, “I’m Carlos.”

She looks at him almost incredulously, “I know who you are,” she says, and her voice is still soft and thin but at least its not panicked.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry,” because he is, he really really is, “These jaegers are supposed to protect the people of the Isle, and I’m sorry that just because we’re drift compatible you aren’t one of those people.”

It’s one thing to volunteer yourself for the jaeger, it’s another to drag someone else down with you, Carlos thinks to himself, but still there are no crossbones on his back.

“I… I’m scared,” Dreda admits, but she looks Carlos in the eye as she does so, and that gives him the courage to say back:

“I’m scared, too.” Maybe this is what makes them drift compatible, a willingness to do something terrifying because it needs to be done and they’re the only ones who can.

Their moment is cut short when shouts ring out; the ground crew heralding someone’s arrival. Carlos and Dreda look down from their spot up in the catwalks, just outside the jaeger cockpit entrance.

Five figures, not in the jaeger technicians’ jumpsuits.

Carlos recognizes the tops of those heads.

“No way,” Dreda breathes beside him, saying what he’s thinking.

It’s impossible for them to have heard her from so high up, but the group looks up, one by one. Carlos knows those faces, too.

Auradon actually did it.


	10. Chapter 10

“Carlos!” They call out, and he’s helpless to stop the smile that spreads across his face. He waves down at them, and perhaps his good cheer is contagious, because Dreda waves as well, even if she doesn’t really know them.

For a second, he forgets. It’s as if the past fifteen months haven’t happened, no kaiju, no jaegers. For a second he’s just a kid again, the youngest member of the Isle’s baddest gang.

But only a second.

“Sir,” one of the technicians says, no doubt originally from the Wall–the primary way to tell technicians apart is by how polite they are–and Carlos looks up, looks away from his friends and Auradon. “Miss Dreda,” he adds, “It’s time to go.”

The jaeger is ready for its pilots.

A wave of numbness washes over him; in his peripheral vision he can see the way Dreda shudders one last time before gearing herself. They both step away from the railing, towards the cockpit entrance.

Dreda’s hand reaches towards him blindly and Carlos catches it in his own. They squeeze each other’s hands; they’re scared, but they’re ready.

“What should we name it?” Carlos asks her, not so much a distraction, but a focusing technique. The jaeger is a frightening future only because it’s an unknown. But they’ve both been a part of building it, and they’re going to be fighting in it. It’s theirs, it’s them, they should get to name it.

Dreda gives a shaky laugh, more exhale than sound. “My cousin Anthony used to call me something before… before.” Carlos vaguely recalls an Anthony Tremaine, a year or two older than himself. He had been… well, not kind–because kindness was not something done on the Isle–but he had been civil towards Carlos when he was just a runty science nerd. He can easily believe that Anthony would have been kind towards a runty, science nerd cousin.

Everyone has lost someone, Carlos is not unique in this. “I think you’ll like it Mr. De Vil,” Dreda says, pointedly using his last name.

“Oh, really?” Carlos asks, looking at her in curiosity.

“Mischief Demon,” she says, with a sly smile, and Carlos can’t help his own huff of amusement.

“That’s a good name.”

* * *

“Carlos!” They call out, and the sight of him in person instead of through a mirror, is more efficient than anything else in convincing them that they’re finally free. He smiles and waves down at them and that prompts all of them, even Mal, to smile back up at him.

Well, Ben has been smiling since first catching sight of him, so it would be more appropriate to say his smile grows even wider somehow. Until something pulls Carlos’ attention away, and Ben notices what he’s wearing.

That’s a jaeger pilot suit.

And beside Carlos is a short figure in a matching suit.

No.

Then Carlos and his partner step away from the railing, disappearing from sight.

No.

“No!” Evie shouts, echoing his thoughts, but the din of the docks or distance or whatever has taken Carlos away prevents her from being heard. “We have to get up there now!”

Jay pulls at one of the technicians, “How do we get up there?”

Maybe it’s surprise or fear, but it might be something else, because her eyes glaze over and she obediently says, “The elevator,” she waves toward the freight lift, but it’s already en route upwards and moving far too slowly for their tastes anyway.

“I’ve got this,” Mal says, and with a sharp arm gesture, she’s suddenly several feet above the ground. The technician, startled, moves away, as do others not even at all close. As does Chip.

But Evie and Jay step closer, familiar if not expectant, each with an arm raised up towards her.

As does Ben.

* * *

“That’s a good name,” Carlos says to Dreda, and with one last squeeze of their hands, they step towards the cockpit.

Only to be stopped by the technician, feet rooted to the walkway, unmoving; looking behind them, and turning pale.

“Almost as good as Queen Cobra,” Carlos hears from behind him, and he doesn’t know what that statement means but he knows that voice. Knows it so well, even if he hasn’t heard it in over a year.

“Evie,” he says, turning, then “Jay!” he yelps, when an arm curves around his shoulders and bodily pulls him away from the jaeger. Dreda is pulled along with him briefly, before she lets go. Smart, since Carlos is dragged into a bruising group hug. Even Mal joins in, though she extricates herself quickly enough.

She is also quick to get to the point.

“You can’t get in that,” Mal says, and no matter that Carlos had been dreading actually piloting a jaeger, no matter that she probably had a good reason and would explain, Carlos’ hackles rise.

It’s one thing to temporarily feel like that kid he once was, one thing to remember being the runt of the gang, jumping to attention whenever the others say so. But he’s not just Carlos anymore, he’s head of the jaeger program now.

“We have to,” Carlos contradicts, and steps away, towards Dreda, towards the jaeger, towards his duty. What does Mal know about the jaeger, about this new way of life on the Isle? She and Evie and Jay have been gone for over a year.

“Carlos.”

They might not have been around, they might not understand. But Auradon was, and he knows.

“Carlos,” Auradon repeats, then steps forward to stand beside Mal, “You don’t.”

* * *

Ben lets the friends reunite, stays back so he doesn’t intrude. He thinks it’s rather sweet, really, though he knows better than to say so. He averts his eyes, in part to give the gang some privacy, but also to look about.

The Isle is empty, the Hell Jalopy and the Rebel Watcher missing, the third jaeger prepped, Carlos and a young girl in pilot suits. He can read the signs: it’s either a triple event, or the kaiju have escalated to class fives and the first two jaegers are being overwhelmed.

The technician, who had paled so quickly upon spotting a group of flying teenagers–the image of a young Maleficent at the forefront–meets Ben’s eyes. Even if Ben weren’t the kind of person to remember people’s faces and names, it’s obvious that this technician is one of the engineers from the Wall, with the way he seems to be drawing comfort from seeing his king alive and unharmed, if a little messy from a dip in the waters around the Isle.

Ben silently and clumsily asks a question about the situation in the hand signs the jaeger program use around the docks when construction is too loud for speaking.

Two class fours, one class five.

So it’s both a triple event and a class escalation.

His attention snaps back to the gang when their conversation turns sour.

“We have to,” Carlos says, backing away and towards the jaeger. Towards danger.

Mal has told Ben what lies on the other side of the tears, the world of the kaiju and their masters. The whole point behind the kaiju. If the masters get a hold of Carlos…

“Carlos,” Ben doesn’t even want to consider that possibility. “Carlos. You don’t,” he steps forward, closer, “You don’t have to. Because we’ll go instead.”


	11. Chapter 11

It’s as if all the thoughts have flown out of Carlos’ head leaving only an overwhelming sense of relief, vague confusion, that mild contrariness from before. And fear. Denial. But the part of him that is the head of the jaeger program is already moving, planning, changing up orders.

“Get more pilot suits,” he says to the technician, who startles but does as told. To Dreda he says, “Tell your crew to prep the fourth jaeger,” and though she hesitates at first to look him in the eyes, she nods and leaves as well.

He doesn’t fully understand it, but it’s as if he just suddenly knows. Knows that what Auradon says it the best course of action. He doesn’t need the drift analyst to know that the four of them would be better jaeger pilots than he and Dreda.

“Queen Cobra?” He asks Evie, she tilts her head toward Mal and Auradon and smiles, small and reserved.

“And the Dragon Knight,” she says, and something in Carlos deflates, resigned.

Carlos sighs, a long quiet exhale that drains everything but the jaeger program from him. “Let’s get to work, pilots,” he says, then turns and walks away, headed towards the control room where he belongs. The docks are his domain, here he is king.

They follow.

* * *

Queen Cobra is the first to set out, towards the class five kaiju.

Mal knows that Evie and Jay will be fine, in part because of her own experience of them. Evie’s omniscience combined with Jay’s battle prowess could only be enhanced by the literal giant fighting machine Carlos has built. They’ll be fine, she knows, because she has faith in them; they are her friends, and she believes in them.

Those aren’t words she’s all that familiar with, but in the drift with Ben it’s easy to admit these things.

In the drift, she also tells Ben the complete truth of the kaiju. Thoughts bounce between Mal and Ben, pooling together their knowledge and building off of each other.

The kaiju are to that world what the jaeger are to theirs–tools for battle. But where the masters of that strange world use the kaiju for conquest, Carlos has built his for defense.

Carlos has built the jaegers out of scraps, not bioengineering like the masters. There are only four jaegers; four jaegers to defeat over a year’s worth of kaiju.

If the masters had gotten a hold on the mind behind the jaegers… It’s why Mal couldn’t let Carlos go.

The past several kaiju had not been designed to demolish everything in their path. All of the past kaiju had headed straight for the Isle, not the shores of Auradon. They had been designed to capture Carlos.

How dare they?

A wave of protective aggression crashes through their drift. It is the ferocity of Mal defending her gang and the devotion of Ben fighting for the boy he loves.

How dare they even try?

The Dragon Knight won’t let that happen.

* * *

All of the jaegers are equipped with cameras, streaming directly to the control room; all the better to keep track of the situation. The footage caught on that day tells a story. A story of survival, yes, but there’s more to it than that.

It is a story, not about heroes defeating villains, but of humanity. Of people, regardless of their past and their legacy, working together to protect each other. The Hell Jalopy and the Rebel Watcher, two jaegers built by Isle and Auradon hands, used by Isle and Auradon pilots. Both defending each other to defeat their shared enemy.

It is a story, not about villains’ kids realizing their potential for heroism, but of redemption. The Queen Cobra, Evie and Jay, defending the Isle which their parents’ greed had put at risk. Proving that magic is power, but power can be used for great acts instead of terrible.

It is a story, not about good versus evil and the unlikely places both can grow, but of sacrifice. The Dragon Knight’s camera works up until it crosses through the tear into the world of the kaiju. Maybe it was the signal, or maybe the strange star and it’s twisted light could not be recorded. The events that occurred there will forever be a secret, known only to Ben and Mal.

It is a story, not about a boy defying both nature and nurture to save the world, but of a boy just trying to do his best. A boy who built a ship for a heartbroken girl, a boy who let his friends fight despite the risk, a boy who asked for aid and was always surprised to receive it. A boy in love.

It has been said that every story is a love story.

* * *

The steady beeping of the heart monitor has been the soundtrack of Carlos’ life for past two weeks. It’s as easy to manage the gradual shutdown of the jaeger program from a hospital room as it is from the docks. Though he does admit, he has been delegating a lot of his duties to Harry, Jace, and Dreda.

It’s not like he’s the only visitor: Evie and Jay stop by frequently, as much to reconnect with him as it is to check on Mal–without the rush of danger, the gang can take their time. They realize that Carlos has gotten a growth spurt in the past year and is finally taller than Evie, so long as she doesn’t wear heels. He’s still no match for Jay, of course.

Chip has acted the part of a guilt ridden statue in the room everyday. When he’s not arguing on behalf of the Isle for better equipment and better supplies and a better way of life, really– “Just continuing what he would have wanted,” Chip shrugs, though with how tense he is, it’s more like a hunching of his shoulders.

But Carlos has a lot of time to himself, the metronomic beeping and his thoughts. No more kaiju, so no more jaeger program. No more head of the jaeger program, so he’s just Carlos now. Just himself–a runty, nerdy boy from the Isle.

With a prince from Auradon?

That’s ridiculous.

The steady beeping of the heart monitors suddenly… isn’t. Carlos startles out of his sulk to stare–the pulses on the monitors are getting faster. Away from comatose state into consciousness.

They’re waking up.

Carlos pushes the call button for a nurse who enters, startles at the long-awaited revival of her patients, and proceeds to summon practically an entire army of nurses and doctors. Most of them are from Auradon, and they crowd around their prince, but there are some who circle around Mal’s bed. At least until her hoarse, but still scathing voice forces them to make room for Carlos.

“Carlos,” she calls, voice rough from disuse, and she gestures weakly at him to come closer.

The first thing Mal does to him, after he’s within grabbing reach, is to take Carlos’ head in both of her hands and just…. stare. Even without knowing she now has magic, Carlos freezes in fear–Mal had always been more intimidating than Jay despite muscle mass, despite the fact that she’s been unconscious for two weeks.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” she says evenly to him. Which… okay?

“I don’t want to kiss you either?” He agrees uncertainly, this is a very strange conversation.

“But if you do not kiss that guy soon,” Mal says, physically turning Carlos’ head so he can see Auradon in the other bed, “I may just kiss you to put all three of us out of our misery.”

Carlos is fairly sure that doesn’t make any logical sense, but he’s not going to argue. So he nods, or nods as much as he can with his head in her grip.

She releases him, and though he straightens his back he stays by her bed. “Mal,” Carlos reaches for her hand, and she magnanimously lets him hold it, “You did good,” he says.

She shoots back, “We all did good,” and they both laugh at the irony–the baddest gang of the Isle, saving the world. Then she bats his hand away, and Carlos probably would feel hurt except she pointedly waves towards Auradon’s bed, significantly less crowded than before.

And Carlos’ empty chair next to it.

“Hey Carlos,” Auradon rasps, and smiles. “I’m back from my quest,” his fingers barely have to twitch before Carlos grabs for his hand.

“You brought my friends back to me,” Carlos responds, voice little more than a whisper.

“You asked for them,” Auradon says simply, easily, as if he would give Carlos anything he asked for without hesitation. Because… that is what he’s been doing, Carlos realizes. “I have been trying to court you for several months, Carlos,” he explains.

“Auradon–” Carlos starts, then stops, cheeks flushed red. Because even now, he doesn’t know Auradon’s actual name.

Fond amusement spreads across his face, stretching his grin wide, “Please, call me Ben.”


End file.
